


Letters from Prison

by Magichemistry



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:07:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14753717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magichemistry/pseuds/Magichemistry
Summary: Prompt from @clyde-prompts:  while in prison clyde starts writing love letters for the reader. they’re not together, so he never sends them. a couple months after he’s home again, mellie finds the letters and gives them to you.





	Letters from Prison

_Prison is boring. You would think it’s something dangerous where you have to stay alert all the time. But since I committed a minor crime, this place is pretty quiet. There are some guys I met from outside and I don’t mess up with anybody. I spend my days at the library, between reading and writing these letters for you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, I guess I was ashamed that you saw me like that. I’ve never cared about what people might think of me, but when it’s about you, I deeply care._

Clyde puts the pen down and sighs at his written words. It’s been two weeks since he’s here and he still has seventy-five days more of his sentence. At first, he didn’t know what do to, he spent his days walking with no lead through the prison and its backyard. Until he found the library and thought that reading was better than nothing. But the stories always remind him of you, he imagined it was you and he, living a life of adventures. And then he realized he wanted to talk to you more than anything in the world, so he started writing letters, each day one.

He folds the sheet of paper into three parts and puts him in an envelope. He doubts if he should write your name and address to send it to you, but high chances are it’ll stay under his pillow, like the other five letters he has written.

* * *

“And Sadie won the beauty pageant. She looked so pretty with that dress. And my make-up, of course.” Mellie finishes updating Clyde on what’s going with his family.

“I’m glad to hear that…” Clyde says but his gaze is lost. Like he didn’t hear a single word his sister said.

“Are ya’ okay?”

“How’s (Y/N)?” he asks what he’s been dying to know since Mellie arrived.

“She’s fine. Haven’t seen her around much”

“She hasn’t come to visit me,” Clyde says. He closes and opens his fist. A scold plastered across his face.

“Ya’ don’t know”, Mellie chuckles and Clyde questions her with his eyes. “She’s the one taking care of the bar. She can’t come to visit ya’ because she’s busy.”

“She’s doing that?” he asks surprised. He didn’t ask you to do something like that. He imagines you behind the bar, a shaker in your hands, preparing a martini like he taught you.

“She said it was her duty as a friend”. Mellie shrugs, not knowing anything more about your intentions. “Do ya’ want me to tell her somethin’?”

“No,” Clyde shakes his head. “I’ll tell her myself”.

* * *

_I know ninety days doesn’t sound like a lot of time, but when I’m here locked up, with you as my only thought, it’s a torture. Time goes slower as I lay on my bunk and I remember all the moments we shared. I can’t see you right now but I can picture you. I see your hair and the way it falls down your shoulders if I close my eyes I can even inhale your fragrance. The way you look when you’re about to laugh at one of my bad jokes. I can feel you close to me even though you’re far away._

Clyde stares at the letter he just wrote and look at the clock hanging on the wall. 6.00 pm. You’re probably about to open the bar. He hopes you don’t have to deal with a drunk guy or that your feet get sore because you have to be standing up for a long time.

The letters pile up under his pillow, as well as the desire to see you. A phone call wouldn’t be enough to tell you everything he wants to. Besides, what would he say? He refused to see you before he went to jail and you’re taking care of the bar, with asking nothing in return.

“You’re such a coward, Logan,” he says to himself and gets up from the chair.

* * *

_Sweetheart, one more week and I’ll be free to walk out of this place. How bad I want to give you a hug and squeeze you so tight until you laugh and tell me to put you down. But I know you like those hugs. Your memory and the hope of seeing you again were the only things that kept me calm. I think about the time before you were part of my life and I remember nothing. You’ve given me so much that I can never pay you back. I’ve never had luck in my life but for some strange reason, you are that once in a lifetime gift that is bestowed upon from heaven._

Clyde’s hand shakes as he struggles to write the next words. He only has said them in his mind. Never out loud. Never written. But this time in prison made his feelings flourished.

_I love you with all my heart, sweetheart. And I wish you could give me the honor to love you forever and make you feel safe and secure in my arms. Even though one of them is bionic, like you joke._

A lonely tear slides down his face and it falls to the paper, leaving a wet circle on it. If he had told you all of this he writes before coming to this place, right now you’d be waiting for his return. But all he has is 87 letters, all for you, hiding under his pillow.

* * *

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mellie asks Clyde. She’s the one who picked him up from prison and brought him to his trailer park. She even left him a six-pack of beer on ice and a ballon that say Welcome Home!

“No, thank you, Mellie”. Clyde takes another sip from his beer as he sits in the middle of the sofa. He feels lost. And he knows why. You’re the thing that’s missing.

“Uh, Clyde, I saw the letters ya’ wrote,” Mellie says and Clyde’s eyes open more in panic. “I didn’t read them all!”, she hurries to say.

“I don’t feel like talking about it”

“They’re for (Y/N), aren’t they?”

Clyde stays silent and takes drinks again from the beer bottle. It’s his way to tell Mellie this conversation is over.

“You should tell her how ya’ feel.” She insists on helping his brother but he shuts down and twists his mouth as a sign that he heard her. “Anyway, I left them in the drawer next to your bed. Goodnight, Clyde”. She bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Night, Mellie”.

* * *

“Hey, Mellie.” You walk into the beauty salon where Mellie works. She texted you if you could come and you said yes.

“Hi, (Y/N).” She finishes sweeping some hair on the floor and invites you to sit down with her.

“Are ya’ mad with Clyde?” It’s the first thing she says and you’re taken back by the sudden question.

“N-no, why?”

“Because he hasn’t call ya’ or see ya’ since he got out of prison”

“It’s been only two days…” you say but the truth is you’re a little hurt. You were very excited when you know he got out and you thought he was going to call you to visit him.

“Yeah but he didn’t talk to you before he got in and ya’ took care of his bar and he hasn’t say anythin’”

“Thanks for the uplift,” you sigh. You took care of the Duck Tape because you love that place and for Clyde. Although, a “thank you” from him would be nice.

“I have somethin’ to you from Clyde.” She gets up and goes to look for something in her purse.

“Did he send it to me?”

“Hell no,” she returns to her seat and you see she’s carrying a bunch of white envelopes, joined by a plastic tie. “He’ll kill me after he finds out I’m givin’ ya’ this, but it’s my duty as his sister”.

“What’s this?” you ask when she passes you the envelopes.

“Letters… from prison”

“I don’t understand,” you take a better look at the letters. “They don’t say my name or anything”.

“I know but they’re for ya’. My brother has more than a simple crush for ya’,” Mellie says and stares at you. She’s dying to hear you say you feel the same.

“O-okay,” you nod and stand up. “I’m gonna go home and read them.” You’re a little disoriented about this whole thing. Why would Clyde write a letter for you and never send them?

“Are you sure they’re for me?” You turn around at Mellie before leaving.

“Yes!”

* * *

You knock at Clyde’s door and take a step back. You put your hands behind your back and wait.

“Hi,” you greet him when he doesn’t say anything, he just stands at the frame door.

“Hi,” he says back. He didn’t expect you to appear here like this. He takes a sight at you and wants to pick you up in a hug. He spent ninety days without you!

“I came here to give you this,” you show him the keys of the bar and put them on his right hand. “And this.” You show him the letters you were carrying behind your back. You read them all until very late last night and cry after. But it wasn’t a sad crying, you don’t even know exactly what it was. Clyde’s beautiful words stirred something inside of you and finally, you fell asleep holding them against your chest. Especially the last letter, that it only said “I love you. Always.”

Clyde freezes in panic when he sees the letters. His letters. He wants to run away but he’s in his own house. His heart thumps against his chest and he can feel a trail of sweat on the back of his neck.

“They’re not for ya’,” he hurries to say. He’s glad he didn’t write your name in any of them.

“What do you mean?” Mellie assured you they were for you and the things he wrote on them, you were sure he was talking about you.

“They weren’t for ya’,” he feels his face burning from embarrassment. “I wrote them for somebody else.” He’s sure you came here to give the letters back and tell him you can be only friends.

“Oh,” you say. “Sorry for the misunderstood. Have them back, then.” You jaw quivers as you try to control your cry. Your eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. The first tear falls down your cheek.

“Take them!” you exclaim and stretch your arm at Clyde.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry… I don’t know…” Clyde stumbles on his words. Why are you crying? He’s the one rejected, not you. But you already running to your car, you just want to hide with your broken heart and never face the world.

Clyde can’t do anything when your car drives away from the road. He stares at the letters on his hand and sees there’s something written on one envelope. Something he didn’t write.

_I love you too <3 </i>_

“You’re such an idiot, Logan,” he reprimands himself. He just broke the heart of the girl he loves.

* * *

Clyde puts the bouquet of white and red roses on the entrance of your house. He makes sure to leave the envelope on top so you can see it. It’s white and it has nothing written on it, just like the others.

“Clyde?” You open the door and find him crouched down with a bouquet of roses on the floor.

“(Y/N), h-hi, uh, you weren’t supposed to be here”. Once again you make him stutter.

“What’s that?” You point with your head to the flowers.

Sweetheart…” he whispers when he sees your red eyes and your downcast gaze.

“What’s that?” You cross your arms and wait for his answer. “A consolation prize? A bouquet of pity?”

“N-no, I…” he starts to speak but then closes his mouth. If he keeps hiding his feelings he’ll lose you. He might be unlucky, but he’s not going to be a coward in front of the girl he loves. Not anymore. “Please, read the letter and then we can talk”.

“Fine.” You sigh and bend down to pick up the envelope.

_(Y/N), this is the first time I actually write your name. All the letters you read were for you. Only you. I guess I was scared you wouldn’t return my feelings, that’s why I never sent them to you. But I think Mellie already told you that. And it’s the same fear that made me told you they were for someone else. I’m sorry, you know I’m not good with words. There hasn’t been someone else for the past years. You are the mirror of the night. The violet light of a thunder. The humidity of Earth. Only you in the space full of sounds. In the shadow and in the light, the one that captures the color. I send you these flowers and in each one a lot of kisses and the affection and love of a lifetime._

“Clyde…” Your hands shake as you hold the sheet of paper.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You throw yourself at his arms, dodging the roses. Your mouths find each other and you he grabs your face as he kisses you. You share a fiery kiss and your hands work their way around his body. A victorious groan born in his chest. This is what he imagined when he got out of jail.

You pull apart taking shaky breaths and opening your eyes. You can’t help the wide grin that draws on your face.

“Can I have the letters back?” you ask.

“Of course, sweetheart. They were always yours”.

 **A/N:**  For the last letter, I took some sentences from a Frida Kahlo’s lover letter.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me: tumblr.com/bad--bad--man


End file.
